


Stake With a Side of Concussion

by KevinFreakingS0L0



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Concussions, Gen, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Stabbing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:21:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23874622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KevinFreakingS0L0/pseuds/KevinFreakingS0L0
Summary: With the help of Jody, Sam and and Dean try to figure out where a hunt went wrong after it lands both of them in the hospital.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 26





	1. Stake With a Side of Concussion

Sam gasped awake to a splitting pain in his side, and it took him a moment of careful breathing and blinking away stars for him to look down and realize that there was a stake impaling him. He took a breath, tried not to throw up, and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Dean?” he gasped. He tried not to panic when he didn’t immediately get any response from his brother.

Each breath felt like he was stabbing the stake even further into his stomach. He couldn’t even remember what had stabbed him. He really didn’t care though, didn’t even care where it had gone, hoping it had just left them alone.

Sam forced his eyes open and squinted into the darkness, trying to focus his distracted thoughts. He knew he was leaning up against a tree, rough bark against his head telling him that much. Once his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, he scanned the area in front of him and saw Dean unmoving just past his feet.

“Dean,” Sam tried again. He choked out a cough as a shortness of breath depleted his energy. There was no blood on his brother that Sam could see, but he had no way of checking for any other injuries.

They definitely needed help on this one. Dean’s unresponsiveness most likely meant that there was something seriously wrong, and there was little Sam could do in his condition. He could barely take a deep breath without gasping in pain.

Forcing his attention away from his brother, Sam tried to remember which pocket he’d left his phone in, and groaned when he realized it had been the one on the side with the stake. There was no way he would be able to get at the phone without jostling the stake, and his concentration was already starting to get fuzzy. He couldn’t afford to pass out now.

He was surprised he _was_ still conscious, let alone alive. A stabbing in the lower abdomen… internal bleeding was likely a given, infection would come later, various other complications Sam wasn’t educated enough to know about…

“Dean!” He said, with more energy this time. “Gah!”

A sharp stabbing pain burst through his abdomen, his hand reflexively wrapped around the wound becoming slick with blood. His other hand shook as he reached up to wipe away sweat from his forehead.

Sam froze suddenly as he heard a rustling groan. Dean’s eyes were open, glazed, and staring straight up. He made no other noise which prompted Sam to believe there weren’t any superficial injuries.

“Sam?” Dean’s voice was quiet, unsure, and Dean had yet to look at anything.

“Dean, yeah–” Sam said breathing heavily. Dean finally turned his head at Sam’s voice. Dean’s eyes slowly focussed on Sam’s figure and Sam could tell the moment Dean could really see him, as he sat straight up, turned to the side, and threw up. Sam didn’t doubt Dean had a concussion, but he could guess what had prompted Dean’s sickness.

“You good?” Sam called. Dean coughed a few more times, spit, and then turned back to Sam, his head held in his hand.

“Where– where did– the–” Dean groaned through his slurred words, and didn’t finish what he was saying. It worried Sam that Dean could hardly string together a few words. Sam had been unconscious when Dean had hit his head, it may have been worse than he expected.

“Dean– you need to– to call fro help–” Sam said, breathing heavily. He moved his arm slightly, trying in vain to reach his phone, but gasped as black spots colored his vision, the pain ratcheting up to almost unbearable.

It wasn’t fair to ask this of his brother, who was probably in more pain than he let on, and could barely focus. But Sam was already starting to feel lightheaded, and he knew he was going to pass out very soon. He sighed in relief as he saw Dean pulling out his phone.

Sam could hardly even pay attention to his brother’s 911 call, he was too busy trying to breath and not panic. Every so often, his breath would hitch, causing him to cough, and though he couldn’t see it, he could taste and feel blood in his mouth.

“Hey, hey, Sam, are you with me?”

Sam jerked awake to see someone staring worriedly at him. Someone “not Dean” with a paramedic shirt on and holding a flashlight. It was then that he heard sirens, and registered other flashing lights nearby. He’s eyes glanced downward, but he couldn’t see his brother where he’d been sprawled before.

“Where… Dean…”

“Dean’s left in the first ambulance already, and you’re up next,” the paramedic said. “I need you to try and stay awake though while we get you in the ambulance, okay?”

“I don’t… Dean… I…” Sam’s voice trailed off in confusion and fear. He knew he’d lost a lot of blood, and he had known just by looking that Dean’s head was bad. Dean’s previous concussions were most definitely not helping this one. And Sam still had a stake in him. How was he supposed to recover from that?

“Sam, I need you to try to calm down,” the paramedic’s voice floated to his ears again. He was vaguely aware of being moved, placed on a stretcher. “You and Dean are in good hands now.”

Suddenly there were more voices, and lights, and all Sam wanted to do was fall asleep

“Sam, can you tell us if there’s anyone we can call for you?”

“Jody M-mills… ch-chief of police in Sioux F-falls,” Sam stuttered. Jody could fix this, could explain the stake, be there for Dean if…

“We’ll get in touch with her for you,” someone cut into his thoughts. He was too lightheaded to figure out who, and by the time a paramedic was telling him “this might pinch,” he was out.


	2. Jody To The Rescue

Jody woke slowly, not really sure what had woken her up at first, when she heard the landline begin ringing. No one ever called the landline, especially this late at night. It was probably a telemarketer. She almost let it ring out, but something made her get up to answer it. Possibly the late hour, or maybe she just wanted to answer the landline for once. Either way, she very soon forgot her worries when she answered.

“Hello, is this officer Jody Mills?”

Jody would have subtly corrected him by slipping in that she was “chief” if not for the circumstances.

“This is she, may I ask who is calling?”

“My name is Doctor Peters, and I’m a surgeon at Community Memorial Hospital in Burke South Dakota. Do the names Sam and Dean mean anything to you?”

“Yes, they’re my nephews.” There was a pause on the other end. “Why?”

“Two males in their early to mid thirties by the names Sam and Dean, no last name, were brought in earlier tonight.”

In the five seconds it had taken him to say just that, Jody’s heart had sunk deep into her stomach. She was frozen for a second before the police chief in her told her to move, to get to Sam and Dean _now_.

“What were they brought in for?” She asked, trying not to let her voice catch as she quickly started packing a bag.

“I’d rather discuss their conditions in person, officer.”

“Chief–” Jody started to correct the doctor, then rolled her eyes. Why was she wasting time arguing? “I can be there in two hours.”

As soon as she’d hung up the phone, she was grabbing her keys and heading to the police cruiser. 

* * *

“Hi, yes, I’m looking for my nephews, Sam and Dean? They were brought in earlier tonight…?”

Jody trailed off as her eyes searched the emergency room. There was little chance they would still be there as it had been almost two hours since she’d gotten the call (she’d made the two hour drive in record time), but she had to look all the same.

“Let’s see, Dean’s in a head CT right now, Sam’s still in surgery. It will be a bit before you can see them– I have some forms that need to be filled out–”

“Surgery? Can you at least tell me if they’re going to be okay? I mean do you know what happened?” Jody wasn’t expecting a full out play by play, but she’d been expecting more than that. She deserved more than that, after the cryptic phone call saying Sam and Dean had been brought to the emergency room. That’s what really had worried Jody. The hospital was a last resort, it always had been for them. An ambulance was even less likely than a trip to the hospital, but for them to reach out to Jody– it must have been bad.

“We’re taking really good care of them, chief, but we don’t know much right now. I will let you know as soon as I hear anything, but it would help if we could at least get their last names?”

“Mills,” Jody didn’t even hesitate, “Sam and Dean Mills.” She would figure out ID complications later. Right now, she owed those boys safety, and that’s exactly what she was planning on giving them.

“Thank you, I’ll let their doctors know you’re here.”

Jody nodded in thanks, took the insurance forms, and went to take a seat in the waiting room. 

* * *

“Miss Mills?”

Jody looked up in surprise. She was rarely ever referred to as “Miss” anymore, most people often went for “officer”, or “chief”. She couldn’t really blame the doctor though. She was in her street clothes, and a fair amount of towns away from her own. How would he know? Besides, she almost found it nice to feel anonymous right now.

“Yes?” She said standing up and hurrying towards the doctor.

“My name is Kevin, I was the triage resident who first saw your nephews. I thought you might like an update while they’re still being cared for?”

“Yes please!” Jody said quickly. She hurriedly gathered up the insurance forms she’d been trying to figure out, and followed Kevin to a small room where they sat down at a small table.

“We received notice of a 911 call earlier last night from Dean. Dispatch had told us that he had slurred speech, confusion, and incoherence while on the call. He was unresponsive upon arrival, but showed no other signs of injury. A head CT showed that there was no immediate danger, but he does have a grade 3 concussion.”

“Oh my god!” Jody exclaimed, unable to contain herself. “What does that mean?”

“Unfortunately it means that his concussion symptoms will last for a quite a while, especially if this is not his first concussion.”

Jody rolled her eyes to herself. She doubted this was Dean’s first concussion, and that he ever let them fully heal properly. 

“The good news is he doesn’t need surgery, and most likely, depending on how he’s doing and what his doctor thinks, he should be out of here relatively soon. Sam’s a little more complicated.”

Jody braced herself for the news. Sam had already been in surgery when she arrived at the ER. 

“Sam arrived unresponsive as well. He’d been stabbed in the lower abdomen with a wooden stake.”

Jody gasped, and she gripped the table hard, looking anywhere but at Kevin. Scenarios were going through her head. A course of events where some werewolf, vampire, or other creature got the better of the famous Winchesters. She could see it happen play by play because she’d almost seen it happen multiple times. She hadn’t been there this time.

“We don’t have to do this now–”

“No,” Jody said, “I’m fine, please continue.” She forced herself to look at the doctor and nodded. Kevin smiled sadly and went on.

“We were worried about blood loss, shock, internal bleeding, as well as infection. He was taken straight into emergency surgery where they successfully removed the stake. He’s in recovery right now.”

Jody let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. Of course she was used to hearing talk like this, being in the police force, but it was different when it was her own. Very different. 

“Sam’s doctor will give you more specifics, but he will need to be put on an antibiotic treatment, and most likely need to stay here under observation for several days. However, each patient is different.”

Jody nodded, not yet able to say anything. The initial shock and worry had lessened and relief had set in, but there was so much still to process. 

“I can take you to see Dean if you want?”

“Yes, thank you,” Jody said, “I just need to make a call.”

* * *

It shocked her at first seeing Dean. Asleep like that, and without his leather jacket, he just seemed so… vulnerable. 

Jody had called Alex and Claire. She’d hesitated telling them the entire story, but knew that they cared about Sam and Dean as well, and deserved to know. Claire of course had asked details about the monster of the week while Alex had asked details about the hunters’ diagnoses. 

She had considered calling Castiel, but was not entirely sure where the Winchesters were at with the angel. Looking at Dean though, so still in the bed, she wasn’t sure she cared.

“It’s normal for him to sleep this much,” the nurse said kindly behind her. Jody turned and took a better look at the nurse who’d before introduced herself as Catherine. 

“He’s not unconscious, just asleep.”

Jody nodded in understanding. “I know,” she said, “it’s just… they worry me.”

Catherine gave her a knowing smile, “they always will.” 

Jody smiled back. She couldn’t count the number of times she worried that she would get a similar phone call about Claire or Alex. She knew that would never stop, and she would never stop worrying about Sam and Dean, even if they’d been worse off than this and still come out the other side. 

“You can stay with him if you like. He probably won’t wake, but at least until Sam’s out of recovery–”

“Yes,” Jody cut into her, “I’ll stay here I think, if that’s okay.”

True to Catherine’s word, Dean didn’t wake up, barely even moved while Jody sat vigil at his bedside. She’d debated calling Castiel, but again held off, deciding she would see Sam before she decided for sure. No need to get him involved if he would only cause drama. Not for the first time, she wished Bobby were here. He’d known the boys much longer than she had, and no doubt would have been a friendly face for them. 

Almost an hour later, Catherine returned with news that Sam was out of recovery and that Jody could see him if she wanted. 

Jody squeezed Dean’s hand for a second before she left, reassuring him she would be back, then followed Catherine from Dean’s room and to Sam’s.

"I'll warn you, he's a little groggy with the amount of painkillers he's on, but he's been pretty lucid so far."

Jody nodded, and Catherine opened the door. She stepped inside, Jody following behind. Sam's eyes blinked lazily open at the sound of the door opening, but he otherwise could have been sleeping. The doctors had told Jody he'd been stabbed somewhere in the abdomen, but she wouldn't have been able to tell, as the sheets were covering it. His head sunk into the pillows, and he shifted slightly so he could see her better.

"Hey," Jody said. She smiled and took the seat next to the bed.

"Jody," Sam said softly, "thanks for coming."

"I'll give you a minute, just call if you need me,” Catherine said, stepping outside. Jody nodded in thanks and then turned back to Sam.

"How do you feel?" She asked.

Sam seemed to think for a minute, then he settled on: "tired."

Jody’s smile was genuine. "You get stabbed with a stake, and all you are is tired?” The relief at seeing Sam’s eyes open was overwhelming, and she couldn’t help but laugh. Sam smiled weakly.

“What happened? What were you fighting?"

Sam sucked in a breath and closed his eyes for a second before focussing back on Jody.

"Thought it was a Wendigo, but it was too smart–left us alone afterward. It was dark though, we were caught by surprise. Have you seen Dean? How is he?"

"Asleep a few rooms down. Grade 3 concussion. Doesn't need surgery, just lots of rest."

Sam breathed a sigh of relief and closed his eyes again.

"He was so out of it," Sam said. "Could barely make the phone call."

Jody's motherly instincts kicked in at Sam's very obvious worry for his brother. She took Sam's hand and squeezed.

"You're both going to be fine, I'll make sure of it. "

"Thanks Jody," Sam said smiling.

"But don't you go thinking you're skipping town as soon they spring you here." Jody said, catching Sam's grimace. "You'll stay with me and the girls until you're both fully healed."

"But–"

“Don’t make me use my mom voice,” she said, and Sam smiled knowingly. Jody could sense Sam’s exhaustion at his fluttering eyes and made to stand. “Get some rest, Sam,” she said.


	3. A Painful Hospital Stay

The pain pulled him from sleep like a punch. The whole left side of his head was throbbing, and while he hadn’t thought it was possible with his eyes closed, he was dizzy. He was afraid that if he opened his eyes the nausea and lightheadedness would be too much.

Dean remembered nothing. A few slip memories here and there: a panicked 911 phone call, getting put into an ambulance– It was when a specific image flashed through his mind though, one of Sam holding a stake in his stomach, that he felt his throat constricting, and knew he was going to be sick.

He sat bolt upright and leaned over the side, much like he had last night, retching and coughing, and he felt something shoved under his chin. His head had exploded in pain, felt like it been pounded with a hammer, and he was afraid he was going to throw up again. But then he felt someone’s hand on his shoulder, and he took a breath and allowed himself to be guided back to the pillows.

“Here, have a drink.”

He still hadn’t opened his eyes and didn’t want to, but he felt something at his mouth, and parted his lips around a straw. He weekly took a sip and tried to get the image out of his mind, but it was only replaced with worry for his brother.

“Sam?”

“Sam is fine, he’s just resting in another room.”

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. He recognized that voice, and she spoke in a way that made it seem like she knew him and Sam. His mind was too fuzzy to try and figure out who it was though, and he was so tired, and his head hurt…

“Okay,” he said, simply satisfied at the news of his brother’s health.

“Just get some rest, Dean.”

When Dean woke again, he felt better, but worse at the same time. His aching head was dulled, but his mind was fuzzy. He remembered that he was in the hospital, and that Sam was okay, but not here with him. Who had told him that? He opened his eyes and saw that the room was bathed in low light.

“Dean? You with me?”

Dean turned his head towards the voice and saw Jody sitting in a chair next to his bed. She smiled. He blinked, trying to remember when the last time he’d seen Jody was. Why was she here now? Her smile faded slightly.

“Dean?” Dean realized she was waiting for him to say something, offer some kind of recognition.

“Jody?” His voice was rough, and his throat was sore. “What’re ya’… doin’ here?”

Jody’s face broke into a wide grin at his voice. “Sam called,” she said, “he told me about the hunt.”

Dean perked up a little when she mentioned Sam, and Jody seemed to notice. “Sam’s going to be okay,” she said, “you both are.”

Dean didn’t like the way she had said “going to be okay”. It made it seem like he wasn’t very okay now.

“…see him?” He asked, but he felt the effects of the morphine start to drain his energy again, and knew that Jody had heard it in his voice.

“Not yet,” she said, “you both need a lot of rest.”

Dean began pushing himself up, determined to check himself out, or at least walk down the hall to see Sam. But the hospital room swirled around him, and he felt Jody slowly guiding him back down onto the bed. He closed his eyes to try and quell the dizziness and nausea.

“I know you want to,” she said quietly. “The doctor said you could be out of here as soon as tomorrow afternoon, but you need to rest.”

Dean didn’t say anything, afraid he might be sick if he opened his mouth.

“Just sleep, Dean, you’ll be out of here before you know it.”

* * *

His side was on fire, and the more aware he became, the more intense it felt. Groaning, he curled in on himself, shielding himself from the pain. But that only seemed to make it worse. He felt someone's hand on his forehead, and then move gently to his cheek.

"Your temperature went up last night." It was Jody. She spoke quietly, gently. Sam leaned into her touch, too tired to try and hide the pain. Abdominal injuries were never fun, especially paired with fevers and infection.

"Normal– post surgery– right?" his voice shook, and he quickly ran out of breath. Jody didn't say anything, and Sam didn't try to open his eyes to see why. He couldn't hold back another moan as his stitches throbbed, pulsating sheer agony through his stomach.

"You're in pain," Jody said, and Sam heard her moving around the room, "let me call the nurse– get you some painkillers."

"Jody–"

"Don't fight me on this, Sam," she said, and Sam didn't. He waited as he heard Jody call for a nurse, and then calmed when he cracked his eyes to see Jody sit back down next to him and take his hand.

"Just relax, Sam."

Gradually, he felt the numbing effects of the morphine take over his body, and soon his brain became cloudy. He could hear Jody speaking softly to him, but he couldn't make sense of her words, and eventually he was asleep.

He quickly lost track of time and how many days it had been. The drugs made him foggy, and he was never really awake enough to hold a conversation. Jody would talk to him, give him something to listen to even if he couldn't respond. He pieced together that Dean was doing good, lucid enough to speak to Jody, but sleeping most of the time.

The nurse spoke to him too, mostly about his antibiotics and pain medication, but also gave him some of the drama that was going around the hospital. He had to admit it was nice hearing about someone else's life, hearing about problems that didn't involve werewolves or vampires or demons. He was thankful though when he actually started realizing they had been decreasing his morphine dose, and became more aware.

“Your stitches are healing nicely,” Catherine said on his third day, “as long as you continue doing well, you might be able to leave soon.”

“What about Dean? How is he doing?” Sam understood why he and his brother had to stay separate, but not seeing him in so long was making him jumpy.

“Dean’s actually being discharged this afternoon,” Catherine said. Sam immediately perked up at the news.

“Any chance I could see him before he goes?”

“If he feels up to it, and it’s alright with Dr. Silas, I don’t see why not.”

This information alone seemed to refuel something inside of Sam, and he was able to pull himself out of bed to go to the bathroom, a feat he had regretfully not been able to do previously.

He hadn’t even tired by the time Dean appeared in his doorway, and smiled gratefully when he saw his brother’s eyes open and focused.

“Lemme tell you, Sammy,” Dean said, sinking down into the chair Jody had recently been occupying. “Chocolate pudding does not taste as good coming back up.”

Dean looked miserable. Jody had told Sam that Dean had orders to go straight home to bed with no stimulation for at least a week. It was a testament to how crappy Dean felt that he didn’t argue Jody to stay with Sam his last few days.

“Dually noted,” Sam said chuckling. He hadn’t eaten anything at the hospital, encouraged not to have solid food for at least a week, and he wasn’t sure chocolate pudding would be first on his list.

“You good, Sammy?”

Sam smiled, knowing that under all of Dean’s exhaustion and lingering pain medication, his brother was still there, and always would be.

“I’m good,” he said. He could just see the end of Jody rolling her eyes as she leaned in the doorway, but her smile was gratified. Sam knew how Jody, Bobby, and even Ellen had seen his and Dean’s codependence, their selfless need to know that the other was okay even if they themselves were not. But for so long, Dean was all Sam had, and just knowing his brother was okay made him better. He knew Dean felt the same way about him.

“Good,” Dean said, “because stake stabbing is an okay way to go, but you can do better.”

At this, Sam outright laughed and Dean smiled. “Can’t be having chick-flick moments, Sam, ‘specially with Jody around.”

“Alright, we better get going,” Jody said. Dean’s words were already starting to lose strength, and Sam knew there was a bed waiting for him at home. “Alex is on her way, should be here soon,” Jody said to Sam.

“I already told you I’m fine, she doesn’t need to come sit with me,” Sam protested.

“I’m not leaving you here alone,” Jody said in a way that made it clear she’d already made up her mind. Sam sighed and watched Dean slowly rise from the chair and make his way to the hall when he turned around.

“See you later,” he said.

“Yeah, see you.” Sam said, and he lay back as Dean and Jody left, wishing he could go with them.


	4. Going Nowhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean tries to figure out what it was they had been hunting, as Sam prepares to leave the hospital.

Dean stared at the ceiling, trying to remember how they’d gotten bested – trying to remember anything really. It was maddening trying to access the memories he knew he had but just couldn’t remember.

Their one witness, Wilkey, had said he’d seen what they’d deduced as a Wendigo coming out of the woods just off the road. He remembered him and Sam deciding to check it out, and then the lengthy stake out in the Impala. Everything after that was mushy. Even parts of his hospital stay weren’t defined in his mind. He could chalk that up to the morphine though. There was a reason he hated the stuff.

Jody had relayed to him Sam’s account of the story, but it hardly made any more sense than his own. Sam said they’d seen a figure going  _ into _ the forest, but it had been hard to see because it had fallen dark at that point. They’d gone and investigated, but hadn’t made it very far into the woods before Sam had heard Dean’s warning just before being stabbed. 

That was really what was grating at Dean’s nerves. He’d supposedly  _ seen _ the Wendigo. Recognized that it was about to advance on Sam early enough to try and warm him. Yet he remembered none of it. 

What really confused him though, was that Wendigo’s weren’t smart or patient enough to stab their prey. He could understand his own injuries, possibly pushed hard into a tree or rock headfirst, but why then would it leave them both without taking them? None of it made sense. 

He closed his eyes, feeling a headache coming on. Whether it was from trying too hard to remember or simply from staring at the ceiling for too long, he wasn’t sure. He let himself drift to sleep, pictures forming in his mind of him and Sam just past the edge of the woods, an eight foot tall ugly Wendigo coming up behind Sam. But it felt wrong. Suddenly Wilkey appeared next to Sam, and Dean was falling, his head pounding. Then he was in the cave back some ten odd years earlier with that kid Tommy, waiting for the Wendigo to come back. But when he saw his brother at the mouth of the cave coming to rescue them, it wasn’t the fresh out of law school kid it had been back then, but the hardened hunter he’d become. Sam’s shirt was bloody and was pulled taut near his stomach where something was impaling him.

Dean snapped his eyes open, breathing heavily and reeling at the dream. He had to talk to Sam. They’d never really gotten a chance to talk, not really. When the doctors had finally let him see his brother before he left, he was still riding on the effects of his last dose of morphine. 

Dean stood up from the bed, and immediately had to reach down and steady himself as the room spun, and he suddenly wasn't sure which way was up.

He'd hoped he was past this part. Dean was no stranger to concussions, and speaking from experience, the dizziness and nausea usually only lasted one to two days. Jody had said this was a more major concussion though.

Trying to focus his eyes on one thing, he waited for the spell to pass, then stood up again, slowly this time. He made his way out into the hallway and squinted in the bright light, waiting for his eyes to adjust.

"Dean!" Dean turned to see Jody standing from where she had been sitting in the dining room. "Are you alright?"

"Hey, Jody," Dean said. He hated how tired his voice sounded. "I need you to bring me to the hospital."

"What? Why? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, I just–"

Understanding crossed Jody’s face as she finished Dean’s sentence.

"You want to see Sam?"

Dean didn't have to say anything for Jody to know it was true.

"Days. It's been days since I've even seen him and even then I wasn't– I didn't really comprehend."

"Dean–"

"I mean he was stabbed, Jody! We were hunting a Wendigo. Wendigo's don't stab. I'm not saying I want to drive there myself–" Dean trailed off. His headache was getting worse, and showing his weakness to Jody wouldn't help his case.

"Dean, I get it," Jody jumped in at his pause. "Honestly, if it were me, I'd want to see him too. But he's coming home tomorrow. I'm sure he doesn't want you driving two hours there and back just to see you tomorrow.”

Dean sighed. Jody was right. He would have done it for Sam, but he couldn’t lie to himself and say that he had enjoyed the ride home from the hospital.

“Claire’s going to see him right now,” Jody said, “I’ll ask her to see how he’s doing, make sure he’s okay.”

Dean nodded. He had a feeling he knew why Claire would want to see Sam, but at least she would give Dean an honest reading of his brother.

* * *

"Hey,"

"Claire?!" Sam said surprised when he saw the teenager walk into his room and sit in Jody's usual chair.

“The ‘Old Man’ wanted me to check up on you," she said. She put her feet up on Sam's bed, and looked at him as if everything about the situation was normal. "Of course Jody told him you'd be going home tomorrow, and I said you were a big boy but– here I am."

"So you're not here to grill me on the hunt? Try to figure it out yourself?" Sam asked. Claire gave him a sly smile.

“That’s just an added bonus. Why don’t we go for a walk?”

Sam rolled his eyes. He was supposed to walk the halls at least once a day to get his strength back up before he went home, but he wasn’t really sure he was up to dealing with Claire’s wittiness while trying to walk a straight line.

“Come on, Sam, doctor’s orders!” 

Sam could tell that Claire was having too much fun with this, but he didn’t really have a choice. He sighed and swung his legs over the side of the bed, bracing himself to stand. Taking a few seconds to get his bearings, he secured the hospital robe around him and reached for the IV stand.

Claire hopped up and held the door open for him, and Sam carefully made his way out into the hallway. They hadn’t even made it to the next patient door before she began the questioning. 

“So when you saw it in the car, how tall did it look? Was it big?” She asked. Sam wracked his brain trying to remember sitting in the car what he’d seen. He hadn’t really been paying that much attention to what it looked like because they’d both assumed it was a Wendigo.

“I don’t know… not very tall? About average height maybe?”

Claire rolled her eyes. “Oh average height? Not very tall? That’s very helpful.”

Sam sighed, “shorter than me, taller than you. That better?”

But Claire was thinking. She’d slowed to walk next to him again. “That’s pretty short,” she said. “And it fits.”

“What are you talking about?” Sam asked.

“Well,” she started, “you’re both fairly intact.”

Sam scoffed at that. The last time he’d spent this much time in a hospital, he was near death. He didn’t know how intact he really was.

“I mean you’re not eaten, bled dry, torn apart, mutilated...” she said. Sam laughed out loud.

“Well thank you for that visual,” he said.

“The point is, that rules out a lot of monsters,” Claire said, “Wendigo, vamp, werewolf, vetala, wraith–”

“Okay, I get the picture,” Sam said glancing around, trying to see if anyone was listening in on their conversation. The halls seemed to be somewhat empty. “What does that have to do with its height?”

“We’re left with things that look like humans.  _ Average height _ ,” she said, “demons, shifters, angels– things that want you dead just so you’re dead.”

“It doesn’t make sense though,” Sam said, he was beginning to get tired, and it annoyed him that they hadn’t even made a full circle around the ward and he was already longing for his bed. “There was a case before we got here. If something had a death wish for us, why would it go through the trouble?”

“Because it was a trap,” Claire said simply. “Whatever it is, was clever. It knows if you two suddenly dropped dead, you would have people looking for an explanation–Jody, Donna, Castiel, maybe even Crowley–”

Sam flinched at her mention of Cas. They hadn’t had many interactions with the angel recently what with his fluctuating grace status. He couldn’t help but wonder if Cas would really look for an explanation if he’d heard that he and Dean had suddenly been killed. 

“They had to make it look like you guys had just gone on a hunt and it hadn’t gone well,” Claire continued. “Problem is, he was sloppy. It’s obvious you weren’t fighting a Wendigo, and ever since the two of you landed here, the disappearances have stopped. Seems to me like you were the targets all along.”

Sam didn’t say anything, refusing to believe that the simple hunt they’d thought they were in was actually a calculated plan. Everything Claire was saying made sense though. The only question left? Who wanted them dead this time?

* * *

“Alright, no stairs for you, I’ve got you on the first floor– actually I’ve got you both on the first floor. I have to say, it’s a tight fit, but blame your brother because it was his idea.”

Sam smirked as he slowly made his way after Jody from the car. The ride home from the hospital had been long, and he was looking forward to laying flat for a long time. 

“Thanks again Jody, I really don’t know what we would have done without your help.”

Jody’s smile was genuine, and she squeezed his shoulder. “You boys are family, and it was no trouble at all.”

She led him into the house and planted him in front of a door just at the foot of the stairs.

“Here we are.”

Sam followed Jody through the door into what looked like a normal guest room, but a simple twin bed had been squeezed in with the full size one already there. The lights were off, but it wasn’t too late in the day, and sunlight wafted in through curtained windows. All of this Sam noticed later, since as soon as he walked in, his attention was diverted to Dean, sitting on the edge of the twin and staring up at them.

“I’ll just go start dinner then,” Jody said. And with a pat on Sam’s shoulder, she was gone.

Neither brother said anything for a second, and Sam finally broke the silence when he really took in Dean’s appearance, and saw how exhausted he looked.

“Hey,” he said, “weren’t you supposed to be sleeping?”

“Uh, yeah,” Dean said cracking a smile. “Good to have you back.”

“Yeah,” Sam said, smiling, “good to be out.”

Dean nodded. Then he stood up, and before Sam could process what he was doing, Dean reached out and pulled Sam into his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around his brother. Sam staggered for a second, caught off balance, then returned the embrace. After a minute, Dean pulled away and patted Sam once on the shoulder.

“We’ll talk in the morning,” he said. Then he turned and practically fell face first onto the twin bed. 

Sam held back a laugh and looked longingly at the other bed in the room. He’d wanted a shower as soon as he got out of the hospital, but he had to admit that he was tired, and the bed looked just so inviting. 

In the end, that’s where Jody found them: both sprawled on their respective beds, half tangled in the covers and sleeping peacefully. 

  
  



End file.
